


In Hallways

by somekindofseizure



Category: The X-Files, The X-Files: Fight the Future (1998)
Genre: Fight the Future, First Time Sex, MSR
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 23:49:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5985214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somekindofseizure/pseuds/somekindofseizure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder and Scully deal with some unfinished business from before she was stung by the bee.  Takes place after they come back from Antarctica, before going back to work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Hallways

She had been on leave with Mulder for two weeks when she realized near-death experiences had become more frequent for her than sex.  But she was taking care of that.  She was on a date.   _Eat up Cute Guy from the News Stand_ , she thought, studying him as he looked over the menu.  Y _ou’re going to be busy tonight._ She felt the armpits of her blazer dampen and wondered if she’d look too naked if she took it off.  She had not been able to get Mulder out of her house soon enough to think this dress through.

No, she was not about to start letting herself feel guilty now.  For two weeks, she had done nothing but sit on couches with Mulder, finding all kinds of innocent things to do.  He seemed delighted, like a kid huddled up in the house during a long snowstorm.  She found it unbearable.  She was in his constant and immediate orbit with no work to do, no danger to escape, and the nagging memory of his arms in a soft, fitted t-shirt pulling her closer.  

She was so distracted she was burning popcorn, she was losing games of Monopoly to him, she couldn’t argue about movies they had watched because she hadn’t been paying attention.  One day she accidentally put one of his porn things on instead of their movie and he laughed for about three hours while she blushed in frustration.  He chalked it up to her regaining her faculties after her alien coma (or whatever it was).  She chalked it up to the thought of his hands wrapped around the back of her neck, his heart spilled across the hallway.  

Maybe you wanted to kiss someone less once you’d suffered the inconvenience of traveling to the bottom of the Earth to rescue them.  Well, fine. If he wouldn’t do it, someone else would.    

So here she was, preening like a regular girl who did not get kidnapped and whisked away to underground extraterrestrial breeding labs.  As she slid her blazer down off her shoulders and sipped her wine, she thought, _Oh right, this is what it’s like to be alive._

 

*

 

He had seen her car in the parking lot.  He watched from the window for a few minutes, wondering whether he should just get his takeout somewhere else.  But this place had the best chili in town.  Apparently Scully’s date thought so too. They already had so much in common.

He had gotten used to the way their afternoons would fade into evenings.  They’d take turns cooking, or they’d go through menus and order something. It passed as sharing their boredom, as a mutual avoidance of loneliness.  But the truth was he was afraid to let her out of his sight, afraid of that virus lurking in her system, afraid of having to make a trip to the fucking ends of the earth for her again.  What he had not bothered to fear was running into her sitting across from some stock market asshole in a polo shirt at his favorite restaurant.

“I think I just want to read and be alone for a little while.”  That’s what she had said.  A bold-faced lie.  Absolutely bold-faced lie.  Come to think of it, she’d been giving him excuses all afternoon.   _Dana_ _Scully is a compulsive liar_ , he thought, feeling his sneakers squeak down the rabbit hole.   _I’m tired, I have a book I want to read, I need a long bath._ Why didn’t she just tell him the truth?  “ _I think I’m going to skip Chinese food tonight and go on a date with a big blonde guy and get fingerbanged in the bathroom_.”  He shuddered that visual away as he opened the door to the restaurant defiantly, marching in on the right side of history.

He gave his name to the cheerful host louder than necessary.  He didn’t know if Scully heard him or it was just a coincidence, but she turned and caught his eye before looking into her napkin like she had to spit some food out.  The diamond studs in her ear sparkled in the cheesy overhead lights.  She had gotten out jewelry for this guy.

Mulder approached the table with a smug smile on his face and the confidence of a man who had the truth on his side and a bag of the best chili in town under his arm.  He wasn’t exactly expecting to sit down and join them, but he also hadn’t anticipated it ending with him checking out his black eye in the rearview mirror, Scully and her date driving off in the distance.

 _You should see the other guy,_ he thought, relishing the memory of not only punching the guy back, but spilling an entire container of chili in his lap.

 

*

He was sulking into a bowl of cereal when he heard her clicking down the hall.  The sound was sharp and potent, and he realized pettily she had different shoes for her night escapades.  Regardless, Scully’s anger could always be measured in the volume of her footsteps, and on a scale of one to ten, this was about forty.  He was at the door before she knocked.

“Guess he didn’t invite you up to the frat house,” he cracked.  It wasn’t the time.

“May I?” she asked coldly and pushed past him.

“Scully, before you even start – “

She cocked her head, eyebrows raised, and paved the sarcastic way with her hand.  He decided he was going to be the rational one tonight.

“You started it.  You mentioned our being on leave and it seemed like a natural time to bring up Antarctica-“

“And the fact that you saved my life, of course.”

“What, that’s like, a punchline now?  I actually did save your life.  And then you made me look like an idiot in front of that stupid hedge fund asshole.“

“He’s not in finance, Mulder.”

“Lawyer –“

“He’s not –“ 

“Whatever he is!” he shouted, his poise flying out the window.  “You acted like I’m some sort of nutjob you tolerate, ranting about spaceships.”

“Ding, ding, ding!” she chimed, throwing her blazer over the back of a chair, placing a frustrated hand on her hip.  She had not changed her clothes.  He had argued with her countless times, but never with her dressed like this and he tried to make a note not to do it again.

“And I’m still not sure what that thing was,” she said stubbornly.

“Well, you might want to decide before we have to sit down at that hearing together.”

 “ _You_ might want to get some ice so you don’t have to give your impassioned crusader speech with a shiner.”

 “I don’t know, it might help me drive home the whole, ‘See this woman sitting next to me?  I resurrected her’ thing.”

 “You cannot throw that at me every time we argue!” she said, waving a threatening finger in the air in a way that only emphasized her tininess.

 “Oh that’s right, I should have realized.  Scully would probably rather stay there sucking up death juice then God forbid have something to thank me for.”

 She was pacing in front of him.  She lowered her voice for effect.  “The way you behaved in that restaurant was humiliating.  For everyone involved.”

 “We were playing Trivial Pursuit, and you shooed me out,” he whined.

“I was panicking about what to wear,” she blurted, as if surprised with her own candidness.

 His eyes attended to her dress without his permission.  He had been too busy at the restaurant trying to annoy her to notice.  Now he felt something in him melt and slide below his waist. He met her eyes again quickly, narrowly avoiding the onslaught of memories of standing in the hallway with her, feeling the heat from her mouth and the thickness of her hair between his fingers.

 “We were in the middle of a game,” he muttered.

 “We were in the middle of a game?  The middle of a game?” she chanted incredulously, marching over to his freezer. He shuffled a few feet behind her.  He noticed there was a different kind of waviness in her hair when it slid across her cheek.  She leaned further past frozen peas and popsicles in his freezer.  

 “What about what we were in the middle of _before_ that?  Before _all_ of that crap?”  It was taking her longer than she’d anticipated to find an ice pack. She stretched further in, the neck of her dress gaping a bit, her nipples hardening into the cotton.  His mouth hung open despite himself.

 He called his defenses to arms as the shreds of his self-righteousness slipped into the trenches.  She slammed the freezer door shut with a toss of her hair and tossed the ice pack to him, landing it more like a _throw at_ him.  She was staring at him now intently, her eyes as clear and as blue as a waxy new crayon.  It was almost the way she looked at someone before she shot them, he noted pointedly, trying to dissuade his stiffening penis.   _But she’s never pointed a gun at someone dressed like this._  He doubts it would ever be necessary.

 “What about what we were in the middle of, Mulder?” she repeated. 

It was the imaginary end of that middle he had been thinking about for weeks.  Already, new fantasies were forming about this night, about taking her dress off.  How she would drag it over her head or maybe step out of it.   _Maybe he would just lift it and_ … Her question sucked him into these thoughts like quicksand, and he was afraid he would never get out.  He was afraid she wouldn’t throw him a rope.  He shrugged, summoning meanness to overpower his desire.  

“Oh, you mean that… it was just a mistake.  We were emotional.”

Her lashes fluttered like ravens’ wings as she finally blinked, her ribs expanding and contracting visibly as she drew a bulletproof layer around herself.  Finally, she picked up her jacket and brushed past him, leaving a trail of perfume and regret in her wake.

 

*

 

She had come this far – halfway down the hall – and she was determined to make it all the way to the car without crying.   _I should be a pro at this by now._ She stirred her anger, thinking of his attitude of entitlement, his manipulative tactics to isolate her, and the real kicker - it was his fault she was not going to get laid tonight.  The sound of his door opening fell between two of her heavy heel clicks.  

 “Scully,” he commanded. She stopped, heard the oxygen in her ears, felt a chill up her arms as a sense of déjà vu washed over her.  It was almost exactly where she had stood right before everything had almost changed.  Instead, she had been kidnapped, poisoned, nearly killed, and Mulder had completed a Latin literary odyssey to get to her – but they were still standing right in this spot shouting at each other.  She wanted to slap the grin off his face as he read her mind.  

 “I think this is even the same t-shirt,” he said.

 She glared at him, trying not to glance at his arms.

 “I’m sorry,” he said simply.

 “Sorry’s not going to bring my evening back to me –“ she said poutily.

 “You can go there anytime you want, I’ll take you right now, I’m starving –“

 “It’s not going to unshave my legs for me –“

 “Probably for the best.”

 “It’s not going to fucking bring that guy back to my apartment and into my bed,” she snapped.

 “Scully, if a black eye and a bowl of chili in his lap’s going to stop him from fucking you in that dress, then something is wrong with him anyway.”  She stood and watched as the clench of his jaw twitched and threatened to spread her legs.

 She was wrong earlier. This.  This was what it felt like to be alive.

 She allowed her face no room to betray her, but she felt her shoulders slide back and settle.  She waited for him to act, to move, but he only backed away.   _Goddamit, do I have to hold your hand?_

 “Let’s just call it a night,” he said apologetically, massaging his temples, squinting the bruised side as he inadvertently touched it.  He turned towards his apartment.  “I’ll ice this, you’ll sleep off that wine buzz, we’ll finish that game of Trivial Pursuit.”  

 Scully had not shaved her legs all the way up only to let this one go without a fight.  As she walked toward him, her ankles wobbled a bit from the wine and the extra inch or two on her shoes, but her resolve was steady.  She put her fingertips on the middle of his back.

 “We’re going to finish this first,” she said in a low, slippery voice.

 

*

 

Scully was turning the doorknob next to his thigh as she nudged him inside.  He wanted to ask her a thousand questions, to confirm theories, to allay concerns about the future, but instead, for once, he shut up.  He slid an arm around her waist, pulled her toward him and slapped the door shut.

 “No,” she said.  She placed his hands on her neck.  “It was here.”

 “Actually it was in the hallway, if you want to be precise,” he said.

 “I do, but you might get evicted after what I have in mind.”

 “Jesus Christ,” he said weakly as he moved his face in to her. 

Her lips opened as he reached them, just as they had that night.  She teased her tongue into his mouth, even before their mouths were joined. She pressed herself slowly against him - her breasts, her belly, her hips – with every move, finding a way to make it better than the way he had imagined.

 She rubbed her hands against his torso, ribbing his shirt up until he could let her mouth go long enough. Once he was shirtless, he reached down to her thighs under the loose fabric of her dress and hiked her up to his waist.  She wrapped her legs around his ass, deepening the kiss from her higher perch to make him taste the faint grapey alcohol on her.  He touched his tongue to the back of her throat, and felt his cock reel in envy.

 He chuckled once sadly into her mouth.  “I don’t have a bed,” he said.

 “I don’t fucking care.” 

“I like it when you say that word.”

“If you play this right, you’ll hear me say it again,” she whispered.  She was successfully – deliberately, he thought - rushing him past any possibility sharing any feelings or concerns.

“Couch?” he asked.

“I’ve had enough couches the past two weeks to last me a lifetime.”  

He brought her to the dining room table, leaning her ass against it and circled his hand from her thigh to underneath her.  As he touched her through her underwear, he felt a swell of gratitude for the length of his arms.  There was apparently another reason she was rushing. The fabric was drenched, the upper inside cracks of her thighs sticky.  

“Scully…” he whispered in awe.

“What, Mulder?” she said, squirming thirstily as she tried to will the fabric out of the way of his fingers.  He stroked her calmly through the cotton.

“I hope this didn’t happen at dinner.”

“Yes.  When he punched you.”

He placed both hands on the table, pretended to walk away.  Of course, he was bound to lose.  She used her freedom to slide her panties to her ankles and stepped out of them as she turned away, pulling the dress over her head with a slight swaying side to side of her hips.  He sighed helplessly.

She turned back to face him, hungrily licking her lips.  Her skin, already pale, had not seen the light of day in weeks, and its brightness radiated a hole through his chest him.  She moved back to him and he realized she hadn’t taken off the night-shoes yet.

“I’m not keeping these on for your enjoyment,” she said as informatively as if she were giving the results of an autopsy.  “I’m doing it so you don’t get a stiff neck.”  He slipped two fingers inside her, adjusting her bedside manner past the point of professionalism.

“Oh, Mulderrrrr.”  He felt her pussy throb around his hand, tensing and releasing, liquid sliding like honey off a spoon into the teacup of his palm. She fluttered her eyes and smiled sleepily at him.  “That’s verrry niiiice,” she slurred. 

As she put her hands to his fly, her nipples just barely touched his chest and he felt the room spin on its axis.  Before he knew it, the rough material of his jeans was replaced with the grip of her hand. He tried to slow the rush of blood to his cock by picturing her squeezing scissors, a scalpel, a pencil, the trigger of her gun, feeling only more turned on at the end of his list.

He wanted to keep prying his fingers into her, to make her come standing up, to literally see her knees weaken.  He wanted to let her keep tugging at him, to come in her hand and on her belly.  He wanted to move through every single base just in case this was his last game, but –

“Mulder, you’re going to put me on this table… and I’m going to put this inside me… and you’re going to fuck me.”  He kissed her neck as she spoke into his ear, intoxicated by the smell of her skin as it warmed over, the way the notes of her body bloomed and overpowered her perfume.

He lifted her onto the table as he put her earlobe in his mouth and whirled the diamond around with his tongue.  “Scully, you’re going to stop telling me what to do now.”

He laid her back and landed his mouth on every surface of her body, exploring her like the best fucking planet in the galaxy.  He slid his tongue over her breasts, leaving a hand there as he continued to kiss her belly, her belly button, her hip bones, the cusp between her thigh and her center.  She alternated groans and grunts and he knew she was holding back yelling at him, but he was used to that.  He got to his knees and curled his tongue inside her a moment.  He licked… sucked… licked… sucked, running his hands down her smooth calves, committing the taste of her to memory, watching her writhe on his table, back bending to his will, hair sticking to her lips.  

“Oh God, Mulder, please, your dick…”

“Mmm,” he hummed into her, not moving.

She pulled his hair and dragged him up, emitting a sigh as his mouth left her.  She propped herself up on her elbows and spread her legs wider. He entered her in one slow, agonizing slide, using his hands to ease her open, his erection growing perversely more every time he realized he was afraid to break her.  

Her chin tipped to the ceiling and she was completely silent and still.  He placed a hand on her lower stomach and twirled her clitoris with his thumb slowly.  When she lifted her face, he saw an expression he had never seen on her. Actually, he had not seen it on anyone ever.  The way Scully wanted things was not the way other people wanted them, and right now she wanted him.

She bit her bottom lip so hard that the plummy skin there dimpled white, summoning him.  He thrusted into her, encouraged by the way she inched her body toward him.

“Stop worrying,” she ordered, and he braced himself on the table as he drove into her harder.  He slid an arm around her waist and sat her up against him.  He had her mouth now, he had all of her.

“Scullyyy…” he said as she settled finally to the hilt of his cock.  He felt his eyes roll into his head under his lids as she sanded his collarbone with her kitten’s tongue.  She nodded fervently and shifted her weight, mercifully reading his mind.  She tipped her tailbone, her ass sliding smoothly from all the moisture against the table, and rolled her pelvic bones toward his body. She rested one hand on his ass, a gesture of invitation.  She moaned as he pushed and made contact with her clit.  

“Harder.”

She panted as he thumped and reached for the end of her again and again, her fingernails dug into his shoulder blades.

“Fuck, Jesus, yes, fuck, oh God, yessss…” she said.  He stared at her, considering the possibility that he was in love with her as she invoked the father, the son and every other entity a good Catholic girl should.

“I must be doing it right,” he said as her body tensed and dragged against him.

“Fuck-yesssss….” She said, her face contorting. And then her breath held and he willed himself to be still as well.  She grinned as she slid back down against him, and her teeth touched his.  “Dammit, I was trying to time it better,” she said.

She placed her forehead against his, and he felt her pulsing extravagantly all around his still thriving erection.  She rolled her pelvis away from him gingerly and nodded once, firmly, as she kissed him. He tried to keep his hands still against her skin so she wouldn’t shiver and jump away.

“It’s okay,” she said.

“I can just –“ he said, suddenly shy at seeing a recognizable expression on her face, hearing a recognizable tone of voice.  She mumbled against him, her voice loose and low.

“I want you to.  So badly.”  She opened his mouth with her tongue, and moved his hands to the peak curve of her ass.  He felt his face slackening, but forced himself to stay, to kiss her as he bucked into her.  She grunted into his mouth each time she received him, rolling the vibration down his throat like a bowling ball.  She swallowed his moan when he came inside her, her brow knitting with emotion against the sensitive skin of his bruised bone.  He groaned her name in her ear one final time.  

And then released his death grip, peeking over her shoulder at the red marks his fingers had left on her bottom.  She nuzzled the hair on his chest and coiled against him as his penis drousily slid out of her.  She folded her arms between their bodies and he wrapped himself around her.  “Scully?” he said.

“Mmm.”

“What do we do now?”

“We finish our game of Trivial Pursuit.”  He rested his chin on her head, trying to stave off his disappointment until a moment in the future when they were just partners again, when she was not naked and soft and astonishing in his arms.  He buried his face in her hair, but she pulled away.

“Get dressed,” she said, her voice expressionless but her eyes still fierce.  She grinned lustily. “There’s a bed at my place.”  

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, feel free to make my day and tell me about it. Here, on tumblr as @somekindofseizure, or at somekindofseizure@gmail.com.


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